


From Stevo To Brushfire: A Wolfenstory

by Grassdragon193



Category: Friday Night Fanfiction
Genre: Other, Steam Sale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 13:14:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12888648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grassdragon193/pseuds/Grassdragon193
Summary: During a Steam sale, a man gifts a game to his good friend.





	From Stevo To Brushfire: A Wolfenstory

Winter had come to North America, bringing with her hail and snow and leaving the landscape drenched and quite moist in places. And since it had been a whole 3 months since the last Steam sale, this seemed the perfect time to have another one.

Stevo “Level 99” Bortz, musician, husband, dog owner, beard haver, and most of all good friend, was browsing the Steam store, not impressed with the latest savings on games he already had, or had no intention of playing.

And that’s when Stevo saw her, Wolfenstein 2: The New Colossus at a hefty discount. ID Software’s Triple-A sequel had pulled her price down scandalously low and put everything on display, leaving nothing to the imagination. Her worth had gone down harder then a rentboy in a gas station bathroom, plummeting like a tour bus full of Mexican nuns off a cliff.

Stroking his beard, he hovered his mouse cursor over the purchase button. Stevo looked both ways to make sure his awesome wife Val couldn’t see, tugging at his collar, cursor circling like a tongue teasing a nipple.

Click.

Cracking open his PayPal he made it rain directly into Valve’s bulging bank accounts, a literal money shot that barely registered in their vast ocean of hat-based transactions.

Somewhere a meter ticked over a certain threshold, and Gabe Newell smiled. He could afford to delay Half-Life 3 for another day. The Gaben was happy.

Unaware of the epic video game edging he had just committed upon the glorious PC master race, Stevo typed off a quick one-handed message. Wolfenstein 2 was on her way to her new master.

==========

The man known only as Brushfire was downloading yet more furry porn when the Steam notification popped up on his desktop. Even then he didn’t click it straight away, these yiffy vixens were demanding his full attention and he wanted to find some for his fluffy bunny wife.

It was only minutes later, downloads folder bulging like a shameful erection at a funeral, that he turned his full attention to his Steam client. He hadn’t been paying attention to the sales, there wasn’t a gimmick this year and he was too much of a Poor to really splooge out and buy 20 more games he would never play.

There, atop a pile of unanswered trade requests from his TF2 days, was his Steam gift. Double-clicking it open he caught sight of his rich bounty before catching Stevo’s simple and elegant message of brotherly love.

‘Fuck. You.’

“Awww,” Brushfire smiled as a warm glow spread across his chest, “Love you too, man.”

Shoving one of his many chickens off the table he hammered the install button. His mighty and majestic gaming rig stirred to life from her slumber. Large and in charge, with heat-sinks and cooling fans the size of watermelons and a graphics card that don’t quit. This one-bad-motherboard cackled as she lined up the connection to Valve’s servers to her succulent port, eying the DL capacity of the fat ethernet pipe.

She sucked, hungrily gobbling down on everything Steam’s servers could give her, using up 100% of Brushfire’s bandwidth and begging for more. And she would need it, Wolfenstein 2 was badly uncompressed and nearly 100 gigabytes in size, a heafty jawbreaker for even the heartiest of whores. She would be in for the long haul.

In the other room, a cute animated gif of ferrets playing in a box of package peanuts stuttered and failed to load.

Nearby a Dark Souls player was backstabbed from in front by an opponent climbing a ladder. As usual.

Across the street a microwave exploded, lights flickering as the kitchen was bathed in radiation like that scene from Ghost In The Machine.

Neighbourhood trees burst into blue flames, cooking a family of opossums to a cripsy golden brown.

In a nearby hospital an ultrasound glitched, revealing a worried teen was actually pregnant with octuplets.

Brushfire’s PC kicked into high gear, cooling systems whirring and whining like a washing basket full of puppies. Already she could feel the game’s components initialising, DirectX reconfiguring itself, processor speed and RAM space being pre-allocated and taken over by megatextures. The cheeks of her CPU bulged as she struggled to swallow fast enough, not wanting to spill any packets.

Russia launched the nukes.

Krakatoa erupted again, spewing countless tons of ash into the atmosphere

The moon, directly overhead, was pulled closer to the Earth, disrupting global tides and causing widespread destruction over the coming weeks and months.

Dinosaurs became un-extinct.

God turned his back on the world.

With a roar of circuity, suddenly Wolfenstein 2 was squirted all over Brushfire’s monitor, title screen tempting him to go kick some nazi ass. His PC breathed a sigh of relief, the hardest part was over, and now she had a full night of hardcore gaming to look forward to.

Brushfire smiled. This was almost as good as a p'zone.


End file.
